


I'm a Fool to Want You

by Space_Kitten_from_Planet_Pheromone



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Fake Marriage, Forced Marriage, M/M, Shotgun Wedding, Unrequited Love, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:19:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Kitten_from_Planet_Pheromone/pseuds/Space_Kitten_from_Planet_Pheromone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a doomed marriage from the start. She knows she can only be his wife on paper, but never in his heart. She knows it all, and yet, she repeatedly lets him go back to the one he really wants. Years after their wedding, she smiles through it all—a love that will never be requited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a Fool to Want You

**Author's Note:**

> My third work in the SnK fandom, and I'm jittery right now. Tell me what you think about this afterwards! :D
> 
>  
> 
> Title based on Billie Holiday’s song. Also, to those who are not reading the manga, Levi’s surname has been revealed, and that surname is used in this fic. OwO

_Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—_

Eren gulps as he bites his lip, be it from nervousness or dread, he dares not to breathe for a long time as he watches the lips of the pastor move and mouth words that are muddied in his reddened ears.

_—to celebrate one of life’s greatest moments—_

He taps his foot once, twice, his eyes darting left and right as he gnaws on his inner cheek. Not far from his right, he hears someone sniffling and bawling. He ignores it, and his fingers twiddle upon themselves. His palms are clammy to his touch, and the whole of his body feels of ice.

_—to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite these two souls—_

He gulps once more, adjusting and readjusting his white tie as he keeps his head high, trying to appear calm, confident, brave—traits that he would rather not to have now as the pastor smiles his way. At least, he thinks the pastor just smiles his way.

He tries to clear his throat as quietly as possible, so as not to attract unnecessary attention. An elbow nudges his ribs, and he mouths a quiet apology.

He looks at the front again, and tries to listen to the hollow words.

_—you are about to create something new! That something is marriage, a relationship that never ends._

Eren almost scoffs, he lets it out as a grunt, and he feels a pair of eyes glare at him from his right. He coughs once more and hides his smirk in his sleeve.

_—as you stand here today, a new commitment shall be born between you—_

He bites his lip again, and the smirk he has been trying so hard to hide widens just a bit more as a certain pair of eyes dart his way.

Eren’s smirk widens more, and he tilts his head back ever so slightly.

Haughtiness has been born.

_You have come here freely, and without reservation, to give yourselves to each other in marriage._

Eren rolls his eyes at the words, and from a short distance, he feels another person do the same.

Eren’s smile falters just a bit, and he looks at his shoes as white as the bride’s gown.

He cannot wait to leave this place.

_—now, I would ask the two of you to treat yourself and each other with utmost dignity and respect. Remind yourself often of what brought you here together today._

Eren grits his teeth at that. His sharp, teal eyes glance for a moment too long to his far left, and there sits a man on the edge of the first pew, slowly wiping away tears from reddened eyes. From Eren’s point of view, he clearly sees that the man mouths something to himself— _My daughter._

Eren looks away, and he frowns.

_Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness, and kindness that your marriage deserves._

Eren closes his eyes, his frown deepening.

No doubt she will give everything just to make her marriage happy. She will be the perfect wife, always faithful and obedient, always seeking for the constant approval just to make everything go in the right direction.

But...

_When frustration and difficulty assail your marriage—_

...will he also do the same?

_—focus on what seems right between you, not only what seems wrong._

He looks at the front once more, his brows furrow as he catches a glance of those piercing silver eyes.

He was looking his way, and Eren feels triumphant for a moment.

_This way, when clouds of trouble hide the sun in your lives—_

Eren yawns, makes no effort to hide it, and another nudge to his ribs becomes his punishment. He shrugs it off, smiling.

He returns his stare to those narrow eyes, and Eren tilts his head and hums, his expression coy and playful. Gone is the nervous man a mere moment ago. He doesn’t hear a part of what the pastor just said.

_—you can remember that the sun is still there._

A lone eyebrow rises from the silver-eyed man, and Eren puts a finger to his mouth, and slowly points to the woman decked in a beautiful wedding gown standing beside him. The man, the groom, smirks and his shoulders shake just the slightest—an evidence of a laugh spills from his thin lips, and Eren smiles to himself as a small, gloved hand encased the groom’s wrist.

Eren’s hand clenches, but he shows all smiles as he looks at the pretty, soon-to-be wife of the soon-to-be husband. A kind-hearted woman she is, she will definitely do all that she can to keep her marriage safe.

Teal eyes travel to silver ones, and they share a common thought as the pastor speaks once more.

_And if each of you will take responsibility for the quality of your life together—_

Eren and the groom chuckle, and covers their mouths with a light cough. The pastor fails to notice it, as he was talking now with his eyes closed, but the bride does, and she worriedly glances behind her, to where a smirking Eren meets her gaze.

_—it will be marked by abundance and delight._

Eren scratches his cheek, and regards the bride and groom with amusement. He notes how handsome that groom is, and how beautiful the bride is, and he hums to himself, silently smiling—a sincere one.

It should be like this, he muses to himself. And another nudge to his elbow is delivered, and he leans his ear to his right as he is pulled towards his adopted sister.

“You are happy with this?” she whispers, and Eren shrugs, smiling all the while.

“Maybe?” It is an honest question, one that sits comfortably in his tongue as he speaks it. That one word hovers at the back of his throat, content, as though everything will go smoothly even after all of what unfurls before him.

_Levi Ackerman, will you have this woman to be your wedded wife?_

Eren raises one eyebrow, holds in his breath, and sighs all the same as the groom answers the question with much hesitation.

“I… will.”

Levi coughs, swallows the spit that obstructs his throat, and the bride stiffly pats his back with a strained smile and a light giggle.

Eren smirks once more as Levi cranes his neck to look at him.

The bride notices, and she bites her lip.

_Will you love and comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?_

The bride side-glances at Levi, her expression hopeful and doubtful all the same, and it wrenches her heart at how his jaw tenses, and he gulps as nervousness paints his usually stoic face, and he glances at him—he, who sits just a few meters behind his right, and he gives the best man a small simper as he licks his lips.

His eyes never stray from his best man’s gaze as he answers weakly.

“I will.”

Eren hums, and shrugs as his adopted sister whispers to his ear once more.

“Are you really fine with all of this?” she asks worriedly as she tugs on the sleeve of his coat. And he looks at her with wide, turquoise eyes, grinning broadly as he leans in to whisper and reply.

“He will always be mine, Mikasa.”

_Petra Ral, will you have this man to be your wedded husband?_

Petra musters her largest and brightest smile at the pastor. Her jaw quivers as her hold on her bouquet shakes and tightens, and she blinks back her tears as she gives the pastor a high-pitched reply.

“I will!”

The crowd nods and some of them laugh at the way her squeal echoes throughout the chapel. Levi pats her hand—out of sympathy, Petra muses—and she bows her head, blushing, and mumbles an apology at the pastor.

The pastor laughs, “Excited, are we?” And the crowd laughs with the blushing bride.

Levi only smiles weakly. His eyes betray the happiness of the occasion as he cranes his neck once more, silver eyes locking with teal ones.

Eren only nods sternly, and Levi returns the gesture with a shrug. They never need words in communicating. They never have.

_Will you love and comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?_

From behind Petra, Eren cracks his neck and bites his lips, and his attention shifts to the fallen petals on the wedding bouquet. He smiles, and he knows Mikasa notices it, but says nothing.

“I will,” the crowd hears Petra say, calmly this time, and from the first pew, Petra’s father joyfully cries. She smiles at him with tears springing forth from her eyes. Levi merely lets out a sigh and looks away, his foot briskly tapping on the red carpet. Restless, he is restless, and he almost glares at the pastor as he speaks once more.

_Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before these witnesses—_

The witnesses, Levi’s best friends Erwin Smith and Hange Zoë, stand up behind the bride and groom and smile broadly at them. The pastor nods with a kind beam at the four of them, mumbling to himself, “Good, good.”

Levi almost snarls as he turns around to face his soon-to-be wife and joins his hand to hers, and he dares not to look at her smiling face. He brazenly—in front of her—looks, _stares,_ at the one sitting on the right of the first pew, his best man’s face sporting the same look of happiness—mockery—as the bride.

_—and repeat after me. I, Levi Ackerman—_

Levi breathes deeply through his nose. His eyes waver back to a smiling Eren, and he is regarded with a finger hovering on the lips. Levi smiles, and the pastor takes it as happiness for finally getting married.

Petra, on the other hand, tries to hold back tears of pain as she sees Levi’s searing and lingering gaze on Eren, and Levi absentmindedly says his vows.

He does not look at her as he speaks.

“I, Levi Ackerman—”

_—take you, Petra Ral—_

“—take you, Petra Ral—”

_—to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward—_

“—to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward—”

_—for better or for worse—_

Levi gulps and heaves a breath too long. His gaze lingers for a moment at Petra, and shifts back to a wide-eyed and smirking Eren. The pastor takes it as nervousness, so does the witnesses and the crowd.

But it will never fool the observant Petra.

“—for better or for worse—”

_—for richer or for poorer—_

A lone bead of sweat drops from Levi’s brow. He wipes it quickly, and he feels another trickle of sweat down his back. He rolls his shoulder once, and he feels his mouth going dry. He licks his lips, and dully says his vows.

“—for richer or for poorer—”

_—in sickness and in health—_

A sudden thought of a joke enters his mind, one that involves him feeling sick at this very moment, and he almost laughs. Almost.

“—in sickness and in health—”

_—to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live._

“—to love and to cherish—” And he returns his eyes to Petra, who has her eyes filled with sadness.

Guilt almost swallows him whole, and he glances at Eren, who is now frowning. Levi pushes guilt at the deepest corners of his mind, and he returns his stare at Petra.

He looks at her, truly looks at her, as though his very eyes burn through her soul.

Petra almost gasps, and for a fleeting moment, she thinks that he finally realizes to whom he will belong.

His eyes flicker at Eren and darts back at Petra. His eyebrows are raised as he speaks.

“—as long as we both shall live.”

Petra’s heart sinks, and her body almost seeps coldness from the inside.

He is asking her, and at the same time, telling her something through the tone of his voice as he says his vows.

This marriage isn’t real, Levi’s eyes seem to say.

The ring bearer smiles and waddles over to them, holding up the rings on a little cushion that is clearly too big on his hands. Levi takes the ring with shaking fingers—how unlike him—and not so gently puts the ring on Petra’s finger.

_Petra Ral, take this ring as a sign of my commitment and fidelity to you._

Levi almost chokes on his own spit. From a short distance, Eren coughs loudly. Mikasa pats her brother’s back and whispers words of comfort.

Levi recovers and smiles, a partly display of his teeth shows as he chuckles. His hold on Petra’s right hand remains as he looks at her. For once, he didn’t glance at Eren.

She doesn’t know if that’s a bad thing or not.

“Petra Ral,” she hears him say almost proudly, and from behind her, she can still hear the choked coughs of Eren and the hushed tones of Mikasa. Another silent voice pipes up in her ears—Armin. She briefly glances at the two, huddling over Eren as he tries to silently shush them with a lopsided smile.

She can almost point out where the inside joke is.

“Take this ring as a sign of my commitment and fidelity to you.”

Petra almost breaks down from his empty words.

She blinks twice and gnaws on her lip, minding her lipstick, and she coldly takes the ring from the white cushion. The ring bearer scampers away with a squeal, and she musters a smile that barely reaches her ears. The pastor almost speaks up, almost, and he looks at the stern-faced Petra, and he shakes his head.

One little slip-up from the ceremony—the pastor lets it slide, as it looks clear to him that the bride is anxious and happy at the same time.

He fails to notice the glare he is receiving from a pair of aquamarine eyes.

Petra looks at the little ring bearer for a moment too long, and her heart shortly fills itself with joy, only for it to come crashing back with sadness as thoughts of reality soured her soul.

At the back of her mind, she wishes to be a mother to a child born from her, with Levi as the father.

_I, Petra Ral take you Levi Ackerman—_

She gazes at him, only at him, as she has always done in the past, and her heart shatters each time his eyes look at those passionate sea-green eyes.

She knows she will never have his heart.

“I, Petra Ral,” she stops, and tries to level her breathless voice. Levi’s thumb idly rubs circles on her hand, and she quietly sobs at the simple gesture. “Take you, Levi Ackerman—”

_—to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward—_

Her hold on Levi’s hand tightens considerably, and he is not taken aback as she looks at him with determination set in those tearful orbs.

He regards her with the most sincere of sympathies, his eyes apologetic, his frown mirroring the sadness of his soul.

Petra sniffles as she says her vows.

“—to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward—”

_—for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer—_

The pastor was nodding and smiling broadly than ever since the beginning of the ceremony. He thinks everything is fine.

Petra wants to yell at the pastor.

Everything is not fine.

“—for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer—”

— _in sickness and in health—_

Petra deeply breathes, and nods to herself as she looks at Levi’s furrowed brows.

She wonders when she can finally make him smile. And her mind wanders—will he even allow her to be with him once he becomes old?

She glances at their joined hands. Levi’s hand is small, but coarse and callous, and currently cold to the touch—like his heart towards her, she thoughts bitterly.

“—in sickness and in health—”

_—to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live._

She feels a tear slip from her traitorous eye, and she wipes it with her gloved hand as she smiles at him, truly smiles at him, and Levi returns it with a solemn nod.

“—to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live.”

The collective sighs of the crowd resonates in her ears, and she wants to cry and apologize to everyone present that everything will not go as fine as everyone thought it will.

She wants to look at Eren’s face, but she cannot. It will be too obvious to everyone, especially to Levi, who seems to fixate his gaze permanently on the best man.

She swallows her pride, slowly puts the ring on Levi’s finger, and hardens her jaw.

_Levi Ackerman, take this ring as a sign of my commitment and fidelity to you._

Her throat feels parched, completely parched, and as she continues to gaze at Levi’s face, her husband-to-be doesn’t even have the slightest bit of shame as he openly stares at Eren.

She wants to rip her heart out as she says her final vows.

“Levi Ackerman,” her throat clenches at the sound his name leaving her lips, knowing fully well that someone will always say it sweeter than her.

She laments her own life, her days to come, she is sure that her future looks grim—and she takes it all with open arms.

That’s how much she loves him—even if she knows he will never look her way.

She closes her eyes as she slips the ring to his finger.

“Take this ring as a sign of my commitment and fidelity to you.”

She means it all, those words she says. She will give everything to him just to make him happy—even if it means it will be her own destruction.

She just cannot say no to this doomed marriage.

Her father is dying, and it is his last wish to see his daughter walk down the aisle with the man who has made Petra’s heart skip a beat. Now, if only she hadn’t met him ten years before all of this chaos has happened.

Eren has swooped in and taken Levi’s heart in a short moment’s notice. He was then young and passionate, brash and hotheaded. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, and always takes risks of his own. Eren is everything that Levi is not, and Petra wonders from time to time if it has been because of those traits that have enraptured his heart to his. Eren never takes no for an answer, and he has brazenly sought after Levi even after knowing fully well that the latter was engaged to be married. Eren has tossed it all off, and constantly seeks for Levi’s approval—much like how Petra does it. But Eren has achieved something much more massive from his unrelenting advances on Levi.

His attention. His feelings. And most of all—his frail and hidden love.

Eren has taken it all, and marked it as his own, brandishing it with every fiber of his being—and Petra sees Eren’s achievements as awe-inspiring.

He has accomplished things in a short matter of time, things that has taken her years to build—and her heart aches every time Levi has upped and left her just to search for Eren’s presence. Constantly seeking him, yearning for him, and Petra weeps for it all.

She knows she will never surpass the younger man.

She opens her eyes to look at Levi, and her heart cries as she sees the broken man.

She wants to run away from his fleeting gaze.

His eyes dart to his far right, and a small, true smile graces his lips for a fraction of a second.

Petra chokes back a sob.

He will never smile at me that way, she laments.

_Levi Ackerman, and Petra Ral, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your commitment to each other by these vows, and the joining of your hands and the giving of these rings, by the authority vested in me—_

Petra bows her head and hides her tears. The eyes around her say it’s from happiness; six pairs of eyes say it’s from sorrow. From Petra’s left, Hange gives Levi a melancholic look, and he brushes it off.

Everything that has happened in this chapel today is a blatant lie.

Erwin keeps his shoulders squared, his face showing no emotion as Petra quietly sobs.

Every smile that Petra has to put from now on will be as spurious as Levi’s love for her, and it tears her apart.

The pastor utters words once more, words that bear no meaning to her, and she almost buckles to her suddenly weak knees.

Levi catches her almost-fall, and she graces him a broken smile.

He returns it with a dismal face.

She wants to hug him and cry and ask him what she can do to make him look her way.

_I now pronounce you—_

She opens her mouth and tries to whisper to his lips that she loves him.

His gaze studies someone for the uncountable time, and his lips also part as longing suddenly fills his cold, silver eyes. His fingers on her arms waver, his hold on her utterly weak.

She is afraid that he may let go of her, that he may leave her on the floor, shall he do that, she will actually be able to cry freely, huddling and pitying herself for a life that she wants to keep and throw away at the same time.

But he doesn’t let go. In fact, he straightens her up with a forced smile and a pat on her arm.

Petra loves him—

_—Husband and Wife._

—and she wishes that he will love her back.

_Congratulations, you may kiss your bride._

Despite the grief and sorrow that pulls at her heartstrings, her insides swell with faux joy—though dark clouds quickly shadow her mind once more as he leans in to kiss her.

Another tear slips from her eye.

Even those lips, he had claimed, for more than a thousand of times—and Petra’s thoughts bellow in agony.

That fervent man, a selfish one.

She cannot even have the innocence of his first kiss.

She pours out all of her unspoken feelings in the most bone-crushing hug she can ever muster, and she feels Levi stumble back. An awkward placement of hands on her head and waist, and a whispered word of “It’s fine”, and nothing more.

His touches feel cold to her searing skin.

The crowd coos, cameras flash through their eyes.

_May I present to you—Mr. and Mrs. Ackerman!_

The crowd roars with cheers and whistles for the newlyweds.

Levi puts up with everything with a small, tightlipped smile and a nod as he wipes at the sweat collecting on his brow and hands. He has quickly let go of Petra’s gloved hands as soon as the announcement has been made, choosing to rather wipe them on his pristine white slacks with a grunt. Erwin gives him a stiff pat on the back, along with a strained smile. And, just as Levi thinks that Erwin will do something out of his place, the tall man’s blue eyes darted over to his right, and the smallest of smirks grace his features.

Levi dismisses it with a huff and a shrug—and he braces himself as the familiar hug wraps and suffocates his lungs.

“My little Levi is finally married!” Hange squeals, and from beside her, Petra giggles, a forced one, Levi is sure.

His silver eyes dart over to a weakly smiling Mikasa, and she only nods at him and shakes his hand a little too firmly—they have never been on cordial terms. But when it comes to Eren, everything becomes an exception. She moves on to Petra, and embraces her with less enthusiasm than Hange.

Levi closes his eyes, and a blissful smile, so unlike him, paints his lips as his cold hands are held with warm ones, and he is pulled into a tight hug, and a familiar scent immediately wafts through his nose. Levi exhales as his skin prickle at the heated touch.

He doesn’t need to see who it is that holds him right now.

“Congratulations, Levi,” the voice whispers hotly to his ear, and Levi almost melts from the sound. Levi’s eyes flutter as he returns the hug as discreetly as he can, noting that there are still people who are watching.

He wishes for all of them to disappear right this instant.

The newlywed man subtly rubs his cheek to the croon of his best man’s neck. His fingers tremble as he claws them on the back of Eren’s suit, not caring that he wrinkles them under his grip. Neither of them care, and it has taken all of Levi’s self-control not to grab him by the tie and fiercely kiss him then and there.

And as though Eren has read his mind, he brushes his lips to his, as modestly as he can, and Levi’s breath hitches and softly takes Eren’s lower lip in between his own lips—like a true wedding kiss.

It was for the shortest of seconds, and Levi can now feel something brushing against his now sweltering fingers.

He almost whimpers against Eren’s chest—how unlike him from his usual arrogance and aggressiveness.

Levi peels himself away from Eren, and he glares daggers at the one standing behind Eren, and he nods his thanks all the same.

Erwin looms behind Eren, facing both of them with a small smile, and he returns Levi’s nod with a soft, “Anytime.”

Erwin has covered Eren, as his built is the largest from all three of them. It is all to conceal them for even a moment, to let them have a little bit of privacy in the middle of the public.

Erwin pats Eren and Levi on the shoulders, nods, and leaves.

Levi glances at Petra.

She has been looking at them the whole time.

Levi looks away and lets out the breath he has been holding. Eren caresses his cheek shamelessly, and Levi almost swats his hand away, but as soon as he looks into those sea-green eyes, his resolve crumbles.

Levi shuts his eyes close, and openly relishes the larger hand smoothing over his cheek with parted lips and fluttering lids, uncaring for the attention of his ever observant, newly wedded wife.

The ceremony is over, and Eren smirks at Petra’s crying eyes.

* * *

 

The reception has been nothing but boisterous merriment, of loud cheers and loud clinks of wine bottles and wine glasses from both men and women alike, and Petra wants nothing more than to hide in misery.

She has been left to her own with her colleagues from work, and she forces her smiles and laughs as she is repeatedly congratulated for finally being married to the company’s most mysterious and enchanting man. Petra laughs along and makes a joke that sounds too fake to her own ears, and they lap up her words with much joy, all of them unaware of the crying heart ripping Petra from the inside.

Her eyes run frantically over the people with blurred faces, each intake of breath wears her out as she tries to find her husband.

As soon as her eyes found him, she almost runs after him and his retreating back—

Petra stops short.

His hand is firmly on Eren’s, and they quietly slip away from the prying eyes, away into the dark corners of the hall, where there is sure to be a room with no people.

Petra smiles as a woman jokes something about kids, and she blankly smiles at her and excuses herself all the same.

Her eyes trail on her husband, her feet following her frantic heart.

She hurriedly slips away from the curious eyes, unaware of her own clumsiness as she almost stumbles towards a waiter passing by. She laughs out her apology and sets her sights on the dark hallways and looks around. At the least, she thinks she is slipping away from the curious eyes.

A firm grip on her arm catches her off-guard as soon as she tries to go around the obscure corner.

“Would you want some more champagne, Mrs. Ackerman?” Hange joyfully smiles.

Petra’s eyes widen at the proffered glass, and she weakly stammers her thanks as she daintily sips on the liquid, blinking at a smiling Hange through the glass as she gulps down the champagne.

She hisses as soon as she finishes her drink, and laughs at Hange’s comical expressions about animals and whatnot. All the while, Petra warily eyes the dark corner of the far edge of the hall, and she is sure that a pair of mocking, sea-green eyes are looking her way.

Her breath catches her throat as she faintly sees the outline of her husband, his clumsy hands snaking all over a rumpled white coat. Levi’s black tuxedo is slipped to his shoulders, his lips and tongue latching onto every bit of the exposed, tanned skin he can reach. His hair becomes a total mess as a large hand grips it tight, and the owner of that hand mashes his lips together with the newlywed man.

Blazing teal eyes met Petra’s watering amber ones.

Her chin quivers as she is persuasively led away by an overly enthusiastic Hange.

Petra downs bottle after bottle of champagne after that—the images of her newlywed husband trembling with exhilaration in the arms of a man remains as her most painful memory of her wedding night.

The party goes on in full blast.

All the while, Levi explicitly and loudly keens and whines in Eren’s sinful touch. The sounds of their heavy breathing and their belt knuckles and zippers slipping open shower their ears. Eren moans as Levi fervently kisses him in the dark.

And their pounding and quickening sounds of pleasure are washed away by the sudden blaring sound of Erwin and Mikasa’s voice blasting through the speakers.

* * *

 

Four and a half years has passed since their wedding night.

Levi continues to return to Eren’s arms each day. And Petra continues to cry every night since she has married Levi.

It has been a doomed marriage from the start, both of them know of it. And yet Petra repeatedly lets Levi back into their cold home, where the food is kept warm and the marriage bed is kept cold.

It has been that way from the start—

The door to their house opens, and in comes Levi at three in the morning, his hair as rumpled as his clothes from work.

His scent travels to Petra’s nose, and it very much reminds her of Eren’s own scent—cool and fresh as the raging sea.

—and Petra welcomes it all, smiles through it all, as she stretches out her hands to him with eyes filled with happiness and sadness.

“Welcome home.”

Her story is a love forever unrequited—

“I’m back.”

—and yet, she longs for that feeling all the same.

* * *

 


End file.
